


Peaceful Warrior

by a_quick_drink



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Male Friendship, Meet-Cute, Teacher-Student Relationship, Yoga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-02-26 15:18:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13238493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_quick_drink/pseuds/a_quick_drink
Summary: Having no luck expanding his social circle after moving to a new city, Ron finally sucks it up and takes a group yoga class to try and meet people. He doesn't expect to fall for the instructor, or for the interest to be mutual.





	1. Chapter 1

A wall of hot and humid air smacked Ron in the face when he opened the door to the yoga studio. He'd arrived early to stake out a spot in back, but the large room was almost full. He hurried to an open space as close to the the back as he could get, between a woman pulling her hair up with a bandana and a small but muscular guy laying on his mat, legs folded alongside him in a pose that made Ron's quads hurt just watching him. If the instructor expected him to do _that_ , they were out of their mind.

Ron glanced back at the door and hugged his brand new mat to his chest, nose wrinkling at the plastic smell of the foam as his confidence suddenly flagged. Last chance to turn tail before he embarrassed himself any further.

No, this would be good for him, he reminded himself; he needed this. While his regular weight lifting regimen was great, it was a solitary activity and between that and work he'd yet to make any friends in almost a year since moving to the city. And forget dating--he didn't have the time. The lone wolf thing was getting old like him, though, and he was tired of it. But nothing would change if he continued his 'gym, work, sleep, repeat' routine. He hoped a group class would be the answer.

Easier said than done.

The only class his gym offered that piqued his interest was something called 'Warrior Yoga' that mixed weights and cardio with yoga and promised he'd build strength and flexibility. The yoga part was hokey hipster nonsense, but he could just tune out the woo and the rest would be a breeze. A little cardio, a lot of stretching, and a lot of potential for meeting someone. It'd be a good way to change up his routine.

Setting down his towel and water bottle, he unrolled his mat to claim the space before he went to get a set of hand weights from the nearby rack.

On the rack was a rainbow of different colored weights, ranging from the light weights wrapped in pink rubber to heavy ones in black rubber. He'd noticed most people had chosen the lighter weights, but there were several from the heavier end. At a loss for which to choose, he grabbed a middling pair of lime green weights. They felt like nothing compared to what he normally used, but surely they'd be fine to start with. Yeah, he could do this.

Confidence somewhat restored, Ron returned to his mat. The guy next to him raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as he popped up into a cross legged seat. "This your first time?" he asked with a goofy grin.

Ron tried pretzeling his legs the same way, but a sharp pain in his hip made him stop. He settled for planting his feet and hooking his arms around his knees. "Is it that obvious?"

"Nah, just never seen you here before is all." The guy offered his hand. "Name's Frank," he said as Ron introduced himself, "and that's Renee."

The woman on Ron's other side offered him a smile and wave. Before he could say anything else the lights dimmed and the room went quiet as the instructor breezed to the front. While too far back to get a good look at the guy, the muscular shoulders and perky ass Ron saw was enough to make him sit up straighter.

"How are my warriors tonight?"

Frank cupped his hands around his mouth and whooped with the rest of the class. Ron rolled his eyes. And this nonsense was why he avoided group classes like the plague. Fake enthusiasm from an obnoxious, cheerful instructor didn't motivate him to do anything but want to leave, but the view couldn't be beat. He could stick it out.

After a quick introduction and welcome to the new students, the instructor--Carwood he'd said his name was--he mentioned it was a hands-on class. Ron shifted to ease the tightening in his groin. He'd like Carwood to adjust something all right, and it'd take every ounce of his willpower to not think about that during class. This would be embarrassing enough without inappropriate erections involved.

Starting in something called 'child's pose' knocked Ron's confidence down another peg. While everyone else had no problem resting on their heels, he settled for an awkward butt hover that felt like he was bowing down rather than resting.

Pushing up onto all fours and flexing his spine he could do as well as any of them, but the down doggy style--or whatever the hell it was called--made him feel ridiculous. And kind of horny. He couldn't even do the pose correctly anyway, and imagined he looked like a shaky, hunched over dog while everyone else was in a perfect triangular shape. This was going to be one of the longest hours of his life.

Ron tried his best, but he struggled to match the quick pace, settling into the unfamiliar postures at the same time the rest of the class had already moved onto the next pose. Sweat dripped down his face. His hands and feet slipped on the mat and made it nearly impossible to hold the poses. They still hadn't incorporated the weights, but he already felt wrung out, frustrated, and ready to quit, hot instructor be damned.

Pushing up into another down doggy, Ron clawed his fingers into the mat and blew out a loud breath. Resting pose his ass. What he really wanted was to collapse and nap through the rest of the class.

The room suddenly felt hotter when a pair of hands gripped his waist and tugged his hips back. Ron sucked in a breath and held it.

"Stay grounded through your hands and feet," Carwood said, "but try to straighten your legs a bit more."

Ron willed his legs to straighten and was surprised to find his hamstrings had loosened enough to allow it. "There you go," he heard Carwood chirp before the hands were gone.

From there, they dropped to their knees for a break; perfect timing for Ron because he felt like he was ready to pass out. Or puke. Or both. He'd always thought he was in great shape, but this class was proving him so very wrong.

He mopped his face with his towel and took a gulp of water. Others were spreading their towels over their mats, so he did the same in the hopes it'd help with traction. As he reached for the weights, Ron silently prayed he wouldn't die.

.....

Whoever decided including weights into the workout was a great idea had to be a sadist. Weights alone were great; stretching, fine; cardio was...well, it always sucked, but at least on its own Ron could avoid it. Together was hell and he wanted no more part of it. Besides, he got by on his own just fine; companionship was overrated.

"So what did you think of class?" a familiar voice asked. "It's your first time, right?"

Ron's head snapped up to see Carwood smiling at him. Not with the broad grin he'd sported during the class, but a soft smile that made Ron's stomach flip flop. Definitely more attractive up close. "Uh yeah, it is. I don't think it's really for me, though."

Carwood's smile fell and Ron immediately wished he could take back his words. "Really? I thought you were doing well. You're a fast learner."

Ron snorted. "You almost killed me."

"Oh please, you look more than capable." A blush colored Carwood's cheeks, but he played it off like what he'd said didn't sound like he'd been checking out Ron. Had he, though, or was it wishful thinking?

"Well, maybe," Ron conceded. "But I'm nowhere near flexible enough to bend myself into pretzels like you can."

Carwood ducked his head to hide a smile. "That comes with practice."

There were several things Ron wanted to practice with him, but he kept those thoughts to himself for later. The 'aww shucks' good guy type typically held little appeal for him, but this one came in irresistible packaging.

"Will I see you in class Thursday night?" Carwood asked as they left the studio, shifting his mat to his other arm. "I promise to go a little easier so I don't scare you away."

Ron hesitated. Was he really considering it? He was drenched with sweat, his muscles were still shaky, and 'fun' was not at all a word he'd use to describe the torture he'd just willingly endured.

He nodded automatically, mentally face-palming himself. Okay, truth be told he was also a touch-starved idiot desperate for human connection and he'd unintentionally found somewhat of a solution tonight. It'd be him doing the scaring away if he wasn't careful.

Carwood's expression brightened again. "Great! I'll see you then."

Ron groaned at himself once Carwood was out of earshot. Deep down he knew he hadn't just agreed to one more class to appeal to Carwood--oh no--he knew he'd attend for as long as Carwood taught it, which could be a very, very long time...


	2. Chapter 2

Carwood did not make the next few classes any easier. If anything they seemed more difficult than the first class because several new-to-him poses had been included in the mix. Trying to figure out what appendage went where and how was further confusing with the upbeat background music Ron couldn't seem to tune out. The hip hop and reggaeton he could deal with, but he wanted to scream every time a Taylor Swift or Britney Spears song was in the rotation.

It also didn't help that his entire body felt like a giant bruise. Muscles he didn't know he had ached. Every morning he woke not knowing what to expect. He hadn't hurt this bad since he'd started lifting weights years ago. Being a beginner again sucked.

Stepping forward into a lunge in a wobbly rendition of some warrior pose, he noticed the guy next to him pitch forward before catching himself by windmilling his arms to right himself. Ron knew the feeling. It also made him feel slightly better about his own ineptitude.

Carwood came around then and helped the guy stabilize himself. Ron forced his arms back despite the twinge it caused in his shoulders and puffed out his chest. A swell of pride buoyed him when he spotted Carwood give him a satisfied nod--and a lingering look as he walked past to inspect the rest of their row.

Ron dropped into a low plank then pushed up into what he thought of as the 'Little Mermaid on a rock' pose. The guy next to him laid face-down on his mat, puffing and panting, remaining that way until Carwood finally let them flip over to sprawl out on their backs.

"Okay, Lew, you can get up now."

Lew--the guy next to Ron--waved a hand at the auburn haired guy on his other side. "Just leave me here, Dick. Go on without me. I know you'll have no trouble finding someone else, someone who can keep up with you." Lew flopped an arm over his eyes and sniffed. "It's better this way."

Dick rolled his eyes. "People are watching," he said, aiming an affectionate smile at Lew. Whatever their relationship was Ron envied them for it.

"Let them watch. They can remember me as the cautionary tale of what happens when step outside your comfort zone."

Ron snorted, drawing Dick's attention. "Don't encourage him," Dick said, pressing his lips together against a smile. "There's another class after us, so if you're going to die, you'd better get to it already."

Lew groaned as he used his elbows to push himself up, then turned to Ron. "Can you believe this guy? I can't just die on command. That ruins the whole dramatic effect I was going for. I'd like my death to mean something, you know?" He stuck his hand out to introduce himself as Lewis. "And this philistine is my husband, Dick," he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

Ron managed a smile. So. Very. Envious.

"So how long have you been doing this?" Lewis asked as they left the studio and headed for the locker room.

"I started last week," Ron answered. He never could have imagined he'd made it through four classes already.

Lewis' dark bushy eyebrows shot up. "And you do it willingly?"

"Lew," Dick warned, casting his husband a disapproving look.

Ron huffed a laugh. "It's fine. Pretty sure I'm crazy for sticking around. Almost quit after the first day." About the only thing that kept him coming back was his pathetic crush on Carwood, but that was his little secret. He'd yet to work out if anything more between them was appropriate, although he certainly didn't care one way or the other. But he'd gladly quit if being a student pursuing his teacher would cause Carwood problems.

"So how was-- Oh, hey! I had no idea you knew these guys."

Ron turned in the direction of the voice. With Carwood focused on him, Ron suddenly forgot how to speak. "I, uh--"

"He didn't, but he does now," Lewis offered helpfully. Ron knew little about any of them, but he was definitely liking Lewis for the save.

The answer seemed to satisfy Carwood, who smiled and resumed his conversation with Dick while silence settled between Ron and Lewis. Taking that as his cue to leave, Ron quietly thanked Lewis and excused himself.

A quick shower and change of clothes later, Ron settled into the deep couch of the locker room lounge to answer a few emails he'd received during class.

He regretted giving his number to his boss. What started as a reassurance that it'd only be used for work emergencies had turned into his work day bleeding into his free time. It was his own fault for answering those initial minor requests, but as a new employee at the time he was eager to make a good impression. Now it just felt like he was being taken advantage of.

"We're going to get dinner. You interested?" There was a twinkle of mischief in Lewis' eyes, though Ron didn't know what it meant or why it was directed at him.

"Thanks, but I've got some work finish. Maybe another time?"

Lewis craned his neck toward the door then back to Ron. He lowered his voice. "You sure? Carwood's coming with." He waggled his brows and Ron finally interpreted his meaning. Heat flooded Ron's cheeks. He tried to school his expression, but suspected he'd failed if Lewis' knowing look was any indication.

"I hardly know any of you."

Ron was running out of excuses, but Lewis remained persistent.

"So it's the perfect opportunity to change that. Work can wait for an hour."

Ron stared at the email he was answering. The project in question didn't need an immediate answer; it could wait until he got in the office in the morning, and so could the other emails. What couldn't wait was the amazing opportunity that'd been presented to him. An excuse to get to know Carwood better? Not one but three possible friendships? He'd struck gold and yet he was thinking about bailing because he was afraid of ruining things like he always seemed to.

_Coward._

He stuffed his phone in a pocket, slung his bag over a shoulder, and followed Lewis out. Yes, work could definitely wait. If anything, this was the perfect opportunity to create some much needed boundaries between his work life and personal life.

.....

Ron may as well have been walking on clouds when he left the restaurant. There'd been nothing to worry about because they all got on well together and wound up staying for nearly two hours. Lewis and Dick had called it a night after dinner, but Carwood had agreed to coffee with him so they could continue their debate over which was the superior medium: print or e-books.

The longer Ron listened to Carwood the more hopelessly he fell for the man who seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve. What you saw was what you got; the Carwood in class was the Carwood out with friends was the Carwood one on one. He was peaceful and steady like a creek in the summertime and Ron basked in the feeling of letting that same calm wash over him. The panic he felt just thinking about asking for more time together abated, replaced with a confidence that things would work out if he could only muster the courage to ask.

Ron idly traced the rim of his empty coffee cup with a finger. It was getting late. They'd lost track of time and while he wanted to spend many more hours with Carwood, it really was time for them to leave.

_Now or never._

"I had a good time tonight," Ron said as they lapsed into silence. "We should get together again."

Carwood blushed. "You know," he said, "Dick teaches an all levels class I like on Sundays. Much slower than what I teach, so I think it'd be a better introduction." Biting his lip as he stared into his cup, a smile tugged at the corners of Carwood's mouth. "Maybe you could join me some time."

_Oh God, not more yoga._

"Sounds fun." It wasn't a total lie, which gave Ron pause. What was he getting himself into?


	3. Chapter 3

As it turned out, Ron couldn't make it to Dick's class that Sunday because he already had plans with a coworker who'd suggested they try a new bar together. It was another small step in the right direction, so Ron didn't want to blow it off. He liked Harry and hoped they could be friends outside of work too.

The way things had worked out was perfect for him. He didn't want Carwood to mistake his eagerness for desperation, nor did he want to go too fast and scare himself into running away.

The studio Dick's class was held in was opposite in nearly every way from the gym's studio. Located on a residential street between a Polish restaurant and an acupuncturist, the studio was nothing more than a single narrow room with mats laid out against the walls to mark where students should go. There was no weight rack and no music, and the faint sweet-smoky smell of incense lingering in the air. It was as hokey as he'd expected. He liked it way more than the gym studio.

After paying the cheerful young woman working at the front desk and listening to a short spiel about what to do, he chose a spot for his mat and worked on getting himself into a cross-legged position while he waited for Carwood. All the recent yoga was doing something for him because he managed to get into the pose with minimal effort--and his hips no longer ached in protest.

When Carwood finally showed up it was moments before class started, so they could only exchange quick pleasantries. Carwood seemed oddly distant, but Ron didn't have a chance to ask if he was alright because Dick passed by then, directing them to get into child's pose and take several deep breaths while clearing their mind. Easier said than done when his mind kept circling back to Carwood.

Dick's class proved much easier. Ron recognized all of the poses and the pace was slow enough that he had no problem keeping up with the class. Standing poses he struggled with in Carwood's class were accessible here with the use of foam blocks. He still lacked the grace and flexibility of the other students, but he felt capable here. It wasn't that Carwood was a bad instructor--he was a fantastic one who seemed well-liked and explained poses in a way even a total newbie like Ron could understand--he just taught a different style of yoga that wasn't a good fit for everyone, Ron included.

As Dick guided them into 'tree pose', Ron's gaze settled on the guy across from him in skin tight leggings Ron wouldn't be caught dead in. The peculiar gray and white pattern of what looked like a great white shark belly had drawn his attention throughout class. Shark Boy looked quite a bit younger than Ron, though it didn't stop him from admiring Shark Boy's lean form and piercing blue eyes. Very cute, but way too young for his taste.

As Ron watched, Shark Boy hoisted a foot all the way up his inner thigh, easily lifting his arms with only the slightest wobble in the leg he was balanced on. Eyes closed, he looked relaxed as he settled into the pose and achieved stillness. Ron, on the other hand, could only manage to get his foot to his ankle and had to keep his eyes open, and there was no way in hell his arms were going up. Even that much was a challenge for him. Dick came around just as Ron lost the pose again.

"Take your time," Dick said in that eternally patient voice of his as he stopped in front of Ron. "Remember to tuck your tailbone as you lift." Ron nodded and followed Dick's direction, determined to get into the pose and hold it for longer than a second. When he did, Dick smiled. "Don't worry about putting your hands up if that doesn't feel available to you yet. Just keep them on your hips or at your heart--whatever feels right for you today."

When they laid on their backs for the final pose, Dick's soothing voice guided them through some breathing exercises Ron didn't understand the point of but he tried anyway. He could've melted into his mat by the time Dick had them release their breaths and stretch out to take up space while they rested. Flopping his arms out, Ron's fingers accidentally brushed against Carwood's. His heart skipped a beat.

Carwood yanked his hand away.

Ron's muscles tensed as the abrupt shift to reality hit him like a truck. He suddenly didn't know which he wanted more: for class to end so he could run away and never return, or for the floor to swallow him so he wouldn't have to face the inevitable rejection.

He rolled his mat and gathered his things as slowly as possible, struggling to think of something to say as he watched Carwood hurry to pack up, his stomach sinking with the realization that his good fortune had somehow ended. What had he done wrong? He wished Carwood would tell him, but all the man left him with was a curt apology that he had somewhere else to be. Ron took it as a dismissal and let Carwood go.

He'd hoped to slink out with at least some of his dignity still intact, but Dick's sympathetic look killed that idea.

"Is everything okay with him?" Ron asked.

Dick stared at the entrance in confusion. "I'd thought so."

.....

Ron stopped going to Carwood's class. It was too awkward and he couldn't focus, nor was his heart in it. He was simply getting on with his life like nothing had happened, but he didn't need this, not when he still had his weights and Dick's Friday evening class that he'd since picked up. Dick thankfully never questioned the change or treated him any differently.

Lewis continued texting him and they'd gotten drinks together a couple times, which Ron appreciated, but he hated how the thing between him and Carwood always felt like an elephant in the room. He wanted to ask Lewis about Carwood, but he also didn't want to be the creep who couldn't take a hint and wound up driving them all away.

And so it went until Harry called him on it one day at lunch.

"You didn't even try asking him what was wrong?" Harry's eyes widened in disbelief, a forkful of food frozen halfway to his mouth. "How do you even know it was something you did? Maybe something was going on that he didn't get a chance to tell you about because you were too quick to dump him."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I didn't dump him." That, to him, implied they were dating, which they most definitely were not. If anybody would get dumped, it was him--it was always him.

"You didn't care enough to go after him."

"We wouldn't be having this conversation if I didn't care. And for the record, you're the one who bugged me to talk about it."

Harry finally shoved the bite of food into his mouth and spoke around it as he chewed. "And it's a good thing I did because what the hell are you waiting for? Talk to him already!" It sometimes baffled Ron how anyone as lovely as Kitty would want to marry a neanderthal like Harry.

"And say what? It's been weeks already. I blew it."

"Not yet you haven't," Harry said with a suggestive wink.

Ron groaned. For that mental image he kind of wanted to punch Harry right in that gap-toothed grin of his. He didn't want to think about all the things he'd missed out on doing with Carwood. At the rate he was going, though, he wouldn't be doing anything fun with anyone.

"So go back to his class and chat him up about yoga or whatever. Ask him out as just a friend." Harry paused, then shrugged. "Tell him the truth."

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't need to hear how I have no clue what I'm doing because I haven't dated in years, and please give me another chance because I also haven't gotten laid in that amount of time," Ron deadpanned.

Harry wrinkled his nose. "Oook, way too much truth there. But that definitely explains some things." He pointed his fork at Ron before digging into his lunch for another bite. "Point is you need to communicate."

"You learn that big word from Kitty?" Ron teased.

Harry threw a crouton at him. Snatching it out of the air, Ron popped the cube into his mouth, crunching away with a smug grin.

"Laugh all you want," Harry said as he got up, "but just remember who's getting some and who isn't." He threw Ron another wink over his shoulder as he got up to throw his trash away, narrowly missing smacking into a wall, the bastard.

A minute after Harry left the lunchroom, Ron's phone lit up with a new text message: _COMMUNICATE_

Left alone at the table, Ron fiddled with a straw wrapper as he considered their conversation. He had been too quick to write Carwood off. Carwood made him want things, a familiar feeling he'd experienced the other times he'd dated that always ended with exes saying he was confused and emotionally distant. Was it only the thrill of the chase he liked? He wanted love more than anything, he knew that now after remaining single for so long, but he was terrified to repeat the same pattern. The peculiar fear of losing Carwood altogether from his life was stronger.

Ron quickly tapped out a short message to Carwood and sent it before he could talk himself out of it.


	4. Chapter 4

Fifteen minutes after he said he'd leave, Ron gave up waiting for Carwood to show. He pushed his half empty coffee cup aside, shut down his laptop, and put it in its bag. He felt like an idiot for getting his hopes up, especially because Carwood never responded to his message. But Ron had said he'd be here, so he had to follow through, just in case.

He considered staying a while longer--who would know?--but couldn't do it. He had his answer.

"Hey."

Ron's head snapped up. A sheepish looking Carwood stood on the other side of the small table, finger-combing his hair back with a shaky hand. Ron gawked at him.

"Can I sit down?" Carwood asked with a smile.

Ron nodded dumbly like a bobble head doll. He was more awful at this than he thought, but Carwood didn't seem to notice, or at least didn't care if he did.

"Sorry I'm late." Carwood folded his hands on the table, but then hid them under the table. His gaze never quite met Ron's. "And that I never replied."

"It's okay. I'm glad you could make it," Ron said, reaching for his own cup and wrapping his hands around it to give them something to do. Carwood's smile widened. At a loss for how to continue the conversation, though, Ron tried a different approach. "Hey, I'm going to get a refill. You want anything?"

"Just chamomile tea, please."

The barista was quick to fill Ron's order--too quick as far as he was concerned because he still hadn't worked out what to say when he got back to the table. He'd never been good at this part of relationships, and Harry was right--he needed to learn how to communicate or he'd continue failing.

"So how have you been?" Ron asked casually as he sat down. A nice neutral question, that would be a good start.

Carwood's smile fell.

Or not...

"Can I be honest with you?" Carwood asked. His brows furrowed as he swished the tea bag around in his mug.

Ron steeled himself for the "you're a nice guy, but..." speech he'd come to expect from any guy he expressed any interest in. It was no wonder he sucked at communication when he was always on the defensive to protect his heart.

Ron clenched his mug in his hands. "Of course," he said.

Carwood set the tea bag on a napkin, waiting a long moment before his chest lifted with a deep breath and he finally spoke. "So, uh, I've been a mess because I really like you," he admitted, lips curving into a smile as he took a sip before falling back into a frown. "But getting involved with a student is crossing a line I'm not comfortable with. When I realized that's what I was doing, I backed off. I felt even worse when you stopped coming to class because that's exactly what I was worried about. I interfered with your practice and for that I'm sorry."

Ron released the death grip on his mug and the tension in his shoulders eased. It wasn't his fault, so he still had a chance with Carwood.

"Well, would it help if I told you I've decided to go to Dick's class instead?" Ron tried. Carwood opened his mouth to say something, but Ron held up a hand to stop him. "It's got nothing to do with anything you did. That style of yoga just isn't for me right now. But if I did want to give it another try in the distant future"--Ron gulped--"it'd be okay to if I'm already dating the teacher, right?"

Mug lifted to his lips, Carwood made a faint spluttering sound. His face turned bright red, but his shy smile returned as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin. "I-- Yeah, that'd be okay."

.....

_Several months later_

"When I said 'bring it on'," Ron panted, "I didn't mean try to kill me." He closed his eyes and tried to focus on slowing his breaths. Corpse pose felt way too literal right now. "I thought you loved me."

Carwood's chuckle sent a bolt of warmth straight to Ron's gut. "Of course I do, but I can't have it look like I'm playing favorites." His lips brushed over Ron's sweaty forehead. "Nix is a bad influence on you."

"If you're trying to change the subject, it won't work."

Carwood hummed, igniting the warmth in Ron's gut. He'd come to love that sound--and had come to it so many times that just hearing it now sparked a Pavlovian response to roll over and beg Carwood to take him right then and there. Carwood, the dirty bastard, knew the effect it had on him. Bad things would happen if they didn't leave the studio soon and he didn't care who saw because his boyfriend was incredible.

Ron opened his eyes and took Carwood's outstretched hand, letting himself be pulled to his feet. "Your place or mine?" Ron asked.

"Now who's changing the subject?"

Giving Carwood's hand a squeeze, Ron released it to gather his things so they could leave already. He didn't care whose place they spent the night at so long as he got Carwood alone ASAP.

It scared him how much all the ways he wanted Carwood and how quickly it'd happened. What would Ron ever do without him? Rather than let the worry consume his thoughts, though, he was learning to cultivate mindfulness, to stay in the present and savor every moment. It was a difficult and alien mindset for him, but he hoped it'd help prevent repeating the past mistake of getting so hung up on the future that he never fully appreciated the now.

"Mine?" Ron asked as he held open the studio door for Carwood. "We can get groceries on the way and make a long weekend out of it." They'd never spent so many days in a row together, but it felt like a natural progression considering how much time they spent in each other's company.

"Sounds perfect," Carwood said. He gave Ron a quick peck on the lips before undressing and wrapping a towel around his waist.

Ron smiled to himself as he watched Carwood walk away to the showers. He was thankful for what they had and often reminded himself to hope for the best rather than anticipate the worst. He was a work in progress for sure, but it somehow no longer felt like the insurmountable obstacle he'd always resigned himself to. Carwood made him feel like anything was possible, made it easy to love himself and want to improve himself. Carwood made him feel light and hopeful and optimistic. Carwood made him feel more alive.

Carwood made him...feel.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed this story, please take a moment to leave a kudos and/or comment. I appreciate the support. :)


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